Thursday, May 31, 2012

Contexts and Differences in the Aquinas and Chemnitz's approach to Christology

More from the article.

Therefore, recognizing that both theologians have drawn upon the authority of Scripture, the Fathers, and first six ecumenical councils in a similar (though not absolutely identical manner), we will now review their theological differences.  The differences between Aquinas and Chemnitz primarily have to do in how they appropriate the implications of the teachings of Scripture and the Christological councils with regard to the communicatio idiomatum.  As we will see, whereas the Aquinas holds to the western Christological tradition stemming from the Tome of Leo, Chemnitz (largely following Luther) develops a Christology that shares many the structural similarities with the Cyrilian tradition of later Greek patristic theology.[1]  These differences regarding the central dogma of the person of Christ elucidate the conceptual difference between Lutheran and Roman Catholic theology, regarding how the divine-human relationship is understood.
Beginning our investigation with Chemnitz, in De Duabus Naturis our author sets out to systematize a slightly modified version Luther’s Christology and its account of the communication of attributes within the hypostatic union.[2]  The systematization of the distinctions regarding the person of Christ does not represent a merely abstract intellectual exercise, but rather was driven by a desire to clarify the theological truth of Christ and his benefits.  As the Finnish church historian Olli-Pekka Vainio comments: “[f]or Chemnitz, communicatio idiomatum is first and foremost a soteriological concept.”[3]  In other words, the person of Christ is inexorably tied up with the work of Christ.  For that reason, the proclamation of Christ’s benefits necessitates conceptual clarity regarding the structure of the Incarnation.    
Explaining with precision the relationship between two natures was particularly necessary in the polemical situation the sixteenth century.  The specific occasion for Chemnitz's treatment of the communication of attributes was a series of debates that broke out between the Lutheran and Reformed communions regarding Christology and its relationship to the Lord’s Supper.  Zwingli and Calvin’s rejection of the substantial presence of Christ according to his human nature in Lord’s Supper was partially rooted in their distinctive understanding of the hypostatic union.  In accordance with Chalcedon, Reformed theologians correctly asserted that humanity and divinity are unchanged in their essential qualities by the Incarnation.  From this, they drew the implication that because human nature is essentially and immutably circumscribed, Christ's flesh and blood could not become substantially present in the Lord's Supper.  Since Christ is seated at the right hand of God, he could not become present at the church altar, due to his spatial limitations.[4]  These Christological claims had differing implications for various Reformed authors.  For Zwingli it meant that only a symbolic interpretation of the Lord's Supper was allowable.[5]  For Calvin and Bucer a spiritual presence of Christ was considered an acceptable interpretation.[6] 
Within the ranks of the Wittenberg reformation itself, the older Melanchthon and his followers remained more agnostic as to the mode of Christ’s presence.  With regard to the communication of attributes, Melanchthon stated in his writing of the 1550s that the sharing of attributes was merely rhetorical (communicatio dialectica), rather than real and concrete (communicatio realis).[7]  Paralleling this development, by the 1540s and 50s, Melanchthon came to argue that Christians need only trust that the person of the Son is present in the Lord's Supper.  Implicitly, this seemed to suggest that the mode of presence (whether bodily or purely spiritual) was irrelevant.  Many of Melanchthon’s later followers were considerably more explicit in their rejection of bodily presence and thereby earned the name “Crypto-Calvinist.”[8]  
By contrast, Chemnitz and the conservative or “Gnesio” Lutherans sought to reject both schools of Reformation thought by reasserting Luther’s understanding of the communication of attributes and, consequently, the Lord’s Supper.[9]  Therefore, as noted above, inDe Duabus Naturis, Chemnitz sets out to systematize Luther’s scriptural insights regarding the communication of attributes.  To explain his position, Chemnitz divides the biblical statements regarding the communicatio idiomatum into three genera: the genus idiomaticum, the genusapotelesmaticum, and the genus majestaticum.[10]  Below, we will review these genera and contrast them to Aquinas’ less formal and systematic treatment of these topics.

[1] This connection has been well explored by scholarship.  See the following articles: G. L. C. Frank, "A Lutheran Turned Eastward: The Use of the Greek Fathers in the Eucharistic Theology of Martin Chemnitz, "St. Vladimir's Theological Quarterly 26 (1982): 155-71; James Heiser, "The Use of Irenaeus's  Adversus Haereses in Martin Chemnitz's Loci Theologici," Logia 7 (Epiphany, 1998): 19-31;  Paul Strawn, "Cyril of Alexandria as a Source for Martin Chemnitz" in Die Patristik in der Bibelexegese des 16 Jahrhunderts  (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1999), 205-30;  Francis Watson, "Martin Chemnitz and the Eastern Church: A Christology of the Catholic Consensus of the Fathers," St. Vladimir's Theological Quarferly 38 (1994): 73-86; Robert Kelley, "Tradition and Innovation: The Use of Theodoret's Eranistes in Martin Chemnitz's De Duabus Naturis in Christo," in Perspectives on Christology: Essays in Honor of Paul K. Jewett, ed. Marguerite Shuster and Richard Muller (Grand Rapids: Zondewan, 1991), 105-125.  Many thanks for Francis Beckwith’s help in pointing the author towards these sources (Beckwith, 272).
[2] See a summary of Luther’s Christology in the following sources: Paul Althaus, The Theology of Martin Luther, trans. Robert Schultz (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1966),179-218; Neal Anthony, Cross Narratives: Martin Luther's Christology and the Location of Redemption  (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 2010),106-54;  Yves Congar, “Regards et réflexions sur la christologie de Luther,” in Das Konzil von Chalkedon: Geshichte und Gegenwart,  3 vols., ed. Aloys Grillmeier and Heinrich Bacht (Wurzburg: Echter Verlag, 1953-1954), 3:457-86;  Paul Hinlicky, Luther and the Beloved Community: A Path for Christian Theology After Christendom (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2010), 31-65;  Denis Janz, The Westminster Handbook to Martin Luther (Louisville, Ky: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 19-22;  Sammeli Juntunen, "Christ," in Engaging Luther: A (New) Theological Assessment, ed. Olli-Pekka Vainio (Eugene, Or: Cascade Books, 2011), 59-79;  Robert Kolb, Martin Luther: Confessor of the Faith (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), 110-7;  Marc Lienhard, Luther: Witness to Jesus Christ: Stages and Themes of the Reformer’s Christology, trans. Edwin H. Robertson (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1982), 153-248;  Bernhard Lohse, Martin Luther’s Theology: Its Historical and Systematic Development, trans. and ed. Roy A. Harrisville ( Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1999), 219-31;  Hermann Sasse, This is My Body: Luther’s Contention for the Real Presence in the Sacrament of the Altar (Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing House, 1959), 148-61; Johan Anselm Steiger, "The Communicatio Idiomatum as the Axle and Motor of Luther's Theology," Lutheran Quarterly 14, no. 2 (2000): 125-58;  Ian D. Kingston Siggins, Martin Luther’s Doctrine of Christ (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1970), 191-243. 
[3] Okki-Pekka Vainio, Justification and Participation in Christ: The Development of the Lutheran Doctrine of Justification from Luther to the Formula of Concord (1580) (Leiden: Brill, 2008), 136.
[4] Justo González, A History of Christian Thought, 3 vols. (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1987), 3:84, 3:149-53;  Bengt Hägglund, History of Theology, trans. Gene Lund (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1968), 256, 264-5;  Pelikan, 4:158-9;  John Willis, A History of Christian Thought, 3 vols. (Hicksville, Ny and Pamona, Fl: Exposition Press, 1976-1985), 3:31.
[5]Timothy George, Theology of the Reformers (Nashville: Broadman Press, 1988), 144-58;  Roger Olson, The Story of Christian Theology: Twenty Centuries of Tradition and Reform (Downers Grove, Il: Inter-Varsity Press, 1999), 406-8;  William Placher, A History of Christian Theology: An Introduction(Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1983), 189-90;  G. R. Potter, Zwingli (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1976), 304-5;  Jean Rilliet, Zwingli: Third Man of the Reformation, trans. Harold Knight (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1959), 228-31;  W. P. Stephens, The Theology of Huldrych Zwingli (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1986), 218-59; Willis, 3:30-2.
[6]See discussion in B. A. Gerrish, Grace and Gratitude: The Eucharistic Theology of John Calvin (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 157-90;  Kilian McDonnell, John Calvin, the Church and the Eucharist, (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1967), 223-7, 348-52.  Also see the classical study of the subject in John W. Nevin, The Mystical Presence (Hamden, Conn: Achon Press, 1963). Regarding Bucer, also see discussion in Martin Greschat, Martin Bucer: A Reformer and His Times, trans. Stephen E. Buckwalter (Louisville, Ky: Westminster John Knox, 2004), 70-8.
[7] Charles Arand, Robert Kolb, and James Nestingen, The Lutheran Confessions: History and Theology of the Book of Concord (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2012), 236.
[8]Melanchthon’s description of the Lord’s Supper in his second to last edition of Loci communes is conspicuously missing any direct affirmation of the real presence.  See Philipp Melanchthon, Melanchthon on Christian Doctrine: Loci communes 1555, trans. and ed. Clyde L. Manschereck (New York: Oxford University Press, 1965), 217-23.  Also see discussion in Clyde Manschreck, Melanchthon: The  Quiet Reformer (New York: Abingdon Press, 1958), 229-48;  James W. Richard,Philip Melanchthon: The Protestant Preceptor of Germany 1497-1560 (New York: Burt Franklin, 1974), 178-180, 242, 361.   Michael Rogness, Melanchthon: Reformer without Honor  (Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing House, 1969), 131-5.  It should be noted that Rogness is not entirely convinced that Melanchthonactually rejected the real presence.
[9] See discussion in Arand, Kolb, Nestingen 231-6;  F. Bente, Historical Introductions to the Book  of Concord (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1965), 183-4;  Eric Gritsch, A History of Lutheranism (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2002), 91-5;  J. A. O. Preus, The Second Martin: The Life and Theology of Martin Chemnitz (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1994), 174-7.
[10] See summary in Preus, The Second Martin266-76.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Policing the Supernatural or Why Modern People Can't Believe in Miracles

By all accounts, Modernity dates its birth from 1648 at the Peace of Westphalia.  The Peace of Westphalia ended the 30 Years War and established the modern relationship between the Church and the State.  Part of this was the creation of a system within the Holy Roman Empire that gave unrestricted control of the Church to the Secular State.  Other confessions of faith would be tolerated (for example, Lutherans in Catholic territories), but their worship had to be private and occur at places and times designated by the Secular State.  Church structure and doctrine were to be dictated by the sovereign.

It should be observed that particular social relations are not simply a neutral state of affairs.  They inculcate in people, and also presuppose, a particular ontic structure to reality.  So, for example, restrictions of Christianity to a private realm and the whole subordination of the Church to the State both presupposes certain truths about religion and its authority, as well as the certain things about metaphysics

What then does this assume?  Specifically, it assumes that creation is itself something of a self-contained autonomous realm.  God, religion, and the supernatural are divided from this realm into the safe region of the conscience (i.e., the "private" rather than "public" practice of religion) and the transcendent.  Hence, contrary to the older Christian traditions of both natural law and typological scriptural interpretation (both of which assume that the pattern of historical events and the structure of nature have possess inherent meaning), there is no inherent meaning to reality.  Reality is a neutral, autonomous realm, made up of material causes, discernible and easily controlled by rational and autonomous centered human subjects (think Decartes and Bacon!).  Humans may from the perspective of their subjectivity superimpose meaning on neutral, material causes, and events.  But this is subjective, private judgments which cannot be counted in the public realm as the real and the objective.

From these assumptions, it becomes clear as to why religion, science, and secularity has emerged the way it has in the previous few centuries.  As we can see, at its heart the emergence of Modernity has very little to do (as we are constantly told in the Liberal narrative of progress!) with the beginnings of rational investigations of reality, the recognition of human dignity, and the destruction of arbitrary authority (actually, if one looks at the history of Modernity, the opposite is the case!  But that is another blog post).  Rather, the modern insistence of the split between fact/value, as well the insistence that a appeal to material causes over supernatural ones is inherently more rational, is simply a byproduct of a certain social narration of reality that has emerged from modern Church/State relations.  In a word: the realm of the material, where the State has a monopoly of control, is the realm of the real.

Logically speaking, the Secular State can only control material causes.  It cannot control supernatural causes.  To claim then that there are causes which are not material but supernatural, is to put certain realities outside of the control of the State.  This is seen as highly dangerous, since the interference of supernatural claims about the real would result in extreme social disruption.  In fact, this is what the architects of Modernity believed had happened during the 30 Years War.  Lutherans, Calvinists, and Catholics had all had competing claims about supernatural authority.  The state, unable to restrict them, had then been driven into prolonged and irrational war.  English authors viewed the English civil war in much the same way.  Of course, this isn't really what happened, but this is what they believed had happened and they therefore considered it important to remedy it.  

For this reason, it is unsurprising that Thomas Hobbes (for example) begins Leviathan with a materialist account of human nature.  In other words, if everything is material, then the State can control everything and there won't be another English civil war (i.e., a war about supernatural truth).  Booyah!  Hobbes accepts that the state will possess a religion, but that the king or whoever the sovereign ends up being should have the right to interpret Scripture.  Contrary interpretation are socially disruptive and therefore the State has the right to suppress them.  In The Social Contract, Rousseau tells us that the State should simply make up a religion that will reinforce its monopoly on power.  It doesn't matter what it teaches, but if people contradict it they should be killed.  The French revolutionaries followed his advice, and established the "Goddess of Reason"in Notre Dame cathedral.

This also puts theological Liberalism in new perspective as well.  To put it mildly, theological Liberalism has little to recommend itself on purely logical grounds.  Bishop Spong tells us we can't believe in miracles.  But why not?  It's an easy syllogism: If God is God and therefore the creator, he can do anything.  The virgin birth falls into the category of "anything."  So does water into wine, and the Incarnation and whatever else.  But when you realize the Modernity's social narration of reality restricts religion to the realm of private judgment (value and not fact!), then it makes a bit more sense why theological Liberalism would be appealing.  

First, with regard to Biblical interpretation, the Scriptures are simply re-narrated on the basis of the modernist distinction between fact/value.  If we admit the supernatural ever occurred, then it would mean that the real was not restricted to the material and therefore the monopoly of the Secular State would be broken.  Hence the enterprise of modern critical Biblical scholarship, invented by Spinoza and Thomas Hobbes in (you guessed it!) the mid-17th century, simply goes through the Bible and re-describes the text as the product imminent social forces-rather than supernatural ones.  Do these scholars have access to these social forces?  No.  Can they prove that they existed?  Not really.  Nevertheless, what fails logically and historically, works for modern people on a rhetorical level.  For one has been acculturated into reading all reality on the basis of purely material causes controllable by the State, it would seem like special pleading to read the Scriptures differently (we hear this often in the plea to read the Bible like "any other book").  Since Scripture can still provide "meaning" and "value" (even though we are told that they are factually untrue in varying degrees), no theological harm is done (or so they claim!).  In fact, if you attended a mainline Protestant college or seminary (as I did) then recognizing this distinction of fact and value as a basis of Scripture interpretation is seen as a sign of theological maturity.  Thinking that "this stuff really had to happen" for there to be theological truth in it, is seen as something childish.  It is something which people will get over once they have matured and learned more.

Hence, theological Liberalism (and other forms of modern theology) tend to then restrict its theology to value and meaning.  This can been seen in greater and lesser degrees.  For people like Schleiermacher, Christianity is all about the experience of absolute dependency mediated through Jesus.  The historical claims for this are necessary (Jesus had to have existed and had superior "God-consciousness"), but fairly minimal.  Again, theology and God are restricted to the inner and private realm.  They are no threat to the claims of the secular realm.  Neo-orthodoxy (of both the Barthian and Bultmannian varieties) also takes this tack.  Barth in a lesser degree by his pious, yet deceptive rhetoric of transcendence; Bultmann (and Ebeling along with him) with is inversion of the Reformational relationship between faith and the Word of God.  For this reason, Christ "rose in the mind of the disciples" and all that clap-trap.  In varying degrees, theology imposes "meaning" on the realm of "facts."  Being private meaning, it lacks the force of public truth claims about how reality actually works and therefore perpetuates the modernist settlement, thereby bolstering the unrestricted power of the State to control every aspect of human life-including its dictation of what constitutes the real.  Alternatively, when theology has made claims about how the public realm should be run, it is viewed as destructive (i.e., the anti-gay marriage movement) or helpful to the degree that it plays into the Enlightenment narrative of progress (i.e., Liberation and Feminist theology).

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Publication News: Luther and Bernard in JEH

It's finally official. I just received my copy-right contract from the Journal of Ecclesiastical History so that they can publish my article on Luther and Bernard of Clairvaux appropriation of the bridal-mystical tradition. If you get a chance, look for it some time in the near future.  You may remember some of this article from last year in that I published some parts of it on this blog. 

Monday, May 14, 2012

Teaching at the Institute of Lutheran Theology

I found out a few days ago that I'll be teaching at the Institute of Lutheran Theology online in the Fall.  I'm slated to teach History of Christian Thought I.  Here's the website:

If you're interested in personal enrichment or in earning an M.Div or other degrees, I would check it out.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

The Linguistic Turn in Philosophy and the Trinity

One of the more interesting developments in recent philosophy is the so-called "linguistic turn."  Much like Kant's Copernican revolution (which recognized that the structures of human subjectivity serve as a filter on reality), the linguistic turn has come to recognize that our consciousness is fundamentally filtered through language.  Beginning with the Structuralists and moving to the post-Structuralist, it has come to be observed that there is no inherent relationship between our words about the world and the world itself.  We cannot look behind our words and see the world in itself.  When we begin to examine our words and their relationship to the world, then we simply use more words and therefore are simply examining them and not the world in itself.  For post-Structuralists in particular, this leads to the belief that there is only rhetoric about the world and no real world represented by our language.  Reality is in itself a vast grey that is distorted by our reifying use of language.  At worst, philosophers have argued that all language is simply a tool of oppression meant to force people into certain categories of being so that they might be controlled and manipulated.  To say the least, such a view destroys any ability to talk about real knowledge or truth.  It leads to pure nihilism.

Among those who maintain the old Modernist faith (progressive history, scientific realism, atheism or deism, liberal theory of polity, etc.) the primary argument for the realism of language has been evolutionary.  If the structures of our cognition function on the basis of language, and if those structures are intended to be evolutionarily adaptable to the environment, wouldn't it make sense that our language would give us true beliefs about the world?  This was primarily the argument of Karl Popper and some of the other Analytic philosophers (I believe A. J. Ayres used this one).  Nevertheless, as Alvin Plantinga has pointed out, the best evolutionary theory could give us would be the certainty that language and cognition gave us adaptive beliefs, not true ones.  For example, random mutation might genetically predispose me to have false beliefs about Lions, but ones that nevertheless kept me away from them.  Since these false beliefs kept me away from Lions, I would live on and the genetic material which would dispose me to false yet adaptable beliefs, would also live on through my offspring.  For this reason, naturalism cannot actually lead to epistemological realism.

With the projects of 20th century philosophy in ruins beneath our feet, it would be my suggestion that it is only belief in the Triune God of the Bible which can give us a proper account of the unity of word and world.  As we have observed, if we center our epistemology on the basis of the human subject and their innate ability to cognitively and linguistically represent reality, then we will always fail.  We will always fail because centering knowledge in ourselves, we take upon ourselves the role of being the guarantor of the truthfulness of the structures of reality.  Nevertheless, this would mean that we in some odd sense were ourselves were the divine creators of these structures.  Only he who creates a thing can in fact guarantee it's truthfulness and trustworthiness.  From the perspective of the Biblical narrative, this insistence on our own competency in this regard is in fact a manifestation of our slavery to original sin.  We desire to take on God's role and this includes becoming the guarantor of the truthfulness of truth.

Then how should we precede?  The Trinitarian account of God's being states that God corresponds to himself and knows himself through his Word.  Insofar as his Word contains within itself what God eternally wills for his creatures (he knows what he wills and wills what he knows), he also knows all creatures through his own Word.  For this reason, God's eternal Word is the trustworthy basis of all reality.  In that he has created creatures in his own image, he has created them in such a way that they know themselves and other creatures through language.  Therefore, like the Triune God, humans know themselves and all creatures in a trust-worthy fashion through the word.  Therefore, the presupposition of having been created by the Triune God gives a proper and necessary account of how our words are able to mediate truth to us.

This truthfulness can only be guaranteed by an account of being built on the reality of the Triune God.  The Unitarian God of Islam and Judaism (or Deism), exists as a supreme and arbitrary will.  From his silent and distant throne, he my arbitrarily will as he pleases.  For this reason, there is no particular reason to believe that our knowledge is trustworthily represented through our word.  God may have arbitrarily willed the unity of the world and our word, or perhaps not.  By contrast, in that the Triune God by his very nature corresponds to himself truthfully through his Word (as do all his creatures), there is a necessary truthful unity between our word and the world.  In that we made in his image, we must necessarily enjoy the same unity our word and truth that God himself enjoys.  For God to set things up otherwise would be contrary to the very structure of his being.  It is of course possible that there could be a aporia between word and world could be introduced, but it would be a disruption of God's original good order (i.e. sin and its consequences).

Monday, May 7, 2012

Chemnitz and Aquinas: Chalcedonian Affirmations

More from the article:

As we have already noted, both theologians accept the Christological boundaries established in the first six ecumenical councils. Therefore at the beginning of De Duabus Naturis, Chemnitz outlines a series of general definitions and explanations of the hypostatic union derived from these early councils and the Church Fathers.[1]  Following the formulation of the fourth ecumenical council, Jesus is both true God and true man in one person (or hypostasis).[2]  Within this union of divine and human natures, neither nature is mixed with or transmuted into the other.  Although both natures retain their essential integrity, when considered in the concrete unity of the hypostatic union, neither can be spoke of in isolation from the other. 
Following the third ecumenical council implicitly and fifth ecumenical council explicitly, Chemnitz asserts that we must view the Second Person of the Trinity as the subject of the Incarnation.  The divine person of the Logos incorporates a non-personal or “anhypostatic” human nature into his own pre-existent hypostasis.[3]  Chemnitz explains that in the human nature of Christ we are confronted with “one particular individual unit (massa) of human nature.”[4]  This does not mean that Christ’s humanity lacks anything that is essential to human nature; rather what it lacks is any independent reality as an individual person or center of identity.  Christ’s human nature subsists in the pre-existent person of the Son, within which it is incorporated (enhypostasis).  Moreover, since the human nature possesses its center of identity and reality through its subsistence in the person of the Logos, what befalls it must be viewed (when considered in the concrete) as befalling the person of the Logos.  This is true because the unity of the person of Christ is not merely notional or rhetorical, but hypostatic and real.  For this reason (following the third ecumenical council) Mary must be referred to as the Mother of God or the “God-bearer” (Θεοτόκος).[5]  In giving birth to Christ, she gave birth to his total theandric person. 
Lastly, contrary to the claims of some,[6] Chemnitz fully accepts the teaching of the sixth ecumenical council that Christ possesses two wills (δυοθελητισμός).[7]  This does not mean that Christ has two centers of identity or consciousness that are potentially in conflict with one another.  Rather, what it means is that Christ lacks nothing that is essential to human nature, including a human volition.  As Maximus the Confessor argued during the Monothelite controversy,[8] if Christ lacked anything that is essential to humanity, it would be impossible for him to redeem other humans.  The claim of the sixth ecumenical council is therefore merely reaffirmation of Chalcedon’s insistence on Christ’s full divinity and humanity.
            In Tertia Pars of the Summa, Aquinas gives roughly the same list of propositions and distinctions discussed above.[9]  The major difference is that in the treatment of these aspects of the hypostatic union is more drawn out and detailed than in De Duabus Naturis.  The Angelic Doctor begins by affirming that Jesus is both true God and man, subsisting in a single concrete person.[10]  In the Incarnation, both natures retain their integrity and the essential qualities of each nature are left undisturbed.[11]  The hypostatic union may be spoken of in analogy with the union of grace, though unity between the two natures far exceeds any other union between God and his creatures.[12]Despite this strong affirmation of the unity of the person of Christ, we will later see that choice of the analogy of the union of grace is rather telling for how Aquinas will later describe the interaction between the two natures. 
Lastly, following the mainstream of the Latin tradition,[13] Aquinas asserts that the human nature in Christ is united with the divine person of the Logos through the medium of his soul.[14]  This latter assertion, though not discussed in Chemnitz, is rejected by many Lutheran theologians on the grounds of its rationalistic nature and the lack of biblical evidence.[15] 

[1] Chemnitz, 1-4; Preus, 29-36.
[2] Chemnitz, 26, 38-9, 47, 62-4; Preus, 83, 113, 131, 172-3  For the text of Chalcedon see Tanner, 1:83.  For discussions of Chalcedon see J. N. D. Kelly,Early Christian Doctrines (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1958), 339-342, 406; ;  John Meyendorff, Christ in Eastern Christian Thought (Washington: Corpus Book, 1969), 12-6;  Jaroslav Pelikan, The Christian Tradition: A History of the Development of Doctrine, 5 vols. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1971- 1989), 1: 263-6;  Linwood Urban, A Short History of Christian Thought (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995), 74-5, 88-9, 91, 93-94,98-100.
[3] Chemnitz, 18-20; Preus, 68-72.  For the text of the fifth ecumenical council see Tanner, 1:107-22.  See fifth ecumenical council in Aloys Grillmeier,Christ in Christian Tradition, Pt. 2, vol. 2 (Louisville, Ky: Westminster-John Knox, 1995), 341, 387, 402- 10, 419-62, 463.   Meyendorff, 38-40, 59-64;  Pelikan, 2:29-30.
[4] Chemnitz, 2; Preus, 30.  “Sed naturam humanum assumpsit consideratam in una certa individua massa . . .”
                [5] Chemnitz, 77-8; Preus, 208-10.  For the text of the third ecumenical council see Tanner, 1:40-74.  See third ecumenical council in Pelikan, 2:260-1, 329-30; Kelly, 328, 331, 341; Urban, 86, 322.
[6] See I. A. Dorner, Entwicklungsgeschichte der lehre von der person Christi von den ältesten zeiten bis auf die neueste dargestellt, 3 vols. (Stuttgart: Verlag von Samuel Gottlieb Liesching, 1845-1856), 1:106;  Gottfried Thomasius, Die christliche dogmengeschichte als entwicklungs-geschichte des kirchlichen lehrbegriffs, 2 vols. (Erlangen: A. Diechert, 1874-1876), 1:371.  Also see discussion of Chemnitz’s acceptance of the sixth ecumenical council and criticism of these two figures’ characterizations in: Tom Hardt, “The Sixth Ecumenical Council,” in Mysteria Dei: Essays in Honor of Kurt Marquart, eds. Paul McCain and John Stephenson (Ft. Wayne, IN: Concordia Theological Seminary Press, 2000), 67-78.
[7] Chemnitz, 87-90; Preus, 233-9.  For the text of the sixth ecumenical council see Tanner, 1:124-30.  For sixth ecumenical council see Pelikan, 2:70-5; George Ostrogorski, History of the Byzantine State (New Brunwick, NJ: Blackwell, 1969), 127. 
[8] See Demetrios Bathrellos, The Byzantine Christ: Person, Nature, and Will in the Christology of Saint Maximus the Confessor (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2004); Meyerdorff, 42-3, 99-115; Pelikan, 2:8-36; Janet Williams, “Pseudo-Dionysius and Maximus the Confessor,” in The First Christian Theologians: An Introduction to Theology in the Early Church, ed. G. R. Evans, (Malden, Mass: Blackwell Publishing, 2004), 193-9.  Andrew Louth, Maximus the Confessor (New York: Routledge, 1996); Lars Thunberg, Microcosm and Mediator: The Theological Anthropology of Maximus the Confessor (Chicago: Open Court, 1995).
[9] See brief description of Aquinas’ acceptance of the parameters of the ancient councils in Richard Cross, The Metaphysics of the Incarnation: Thomas Aquinas to Duns Scotus (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2005), 51-64; Michael Gorman, “Christ as Composite according to Aquinas” Traditio 55 (2000): 143-57;  idem, “Uses of the Person-Nature distinction in Thomas's Christology,” Recherches de Théologie et Philosophie Médiévales 67, no 1 (2000): 58-79;  Herman Otto Pesch, Thomas von Aquin: Grenze und Größe mittelalter Theologie (Mainz: Matthias-Grünewald Verlag, 1989), 334-5; Eleanore Stump, Aquinas (New York: Routledge, 2005), 407-26;  Joseph Wawrykow, The Westminster Handbook to Thomas Aquinas (Louisville, Ky: Westminster John Knox, 2005), 71-3.
[10] ST, 3a. q.2, art.1-2; BF, 48:35-47.  Also see Edward Gratsch, Aquinas’ Summa: An Introduction and Interpretation (New York: Alba House, 1985), 217-8; Joseph Wawrykow, “The Hypostatic Union” in The Theology of Thomas Aquinas, ed. Joseph Wawrykow and Nik Van Nieuwenhove (Notre Dame: Notre Dame University Press, 2005), 222-51.  Brian Davies, The Thought of Thomas Aquinas (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1992), 297-307.
[11] ST, 3a. q.2, art.1-2; BF, 48:35-47. 
[12] ST, 3a. q.2, art.9; BF 48:73-9.
[13] Peter Lombard, The Sentences, 4 vols., trans. Giulio Silano (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 2007-2010), 3:8.
[14] ST, 3a. q.6, art.4; BF, 48:165.  Ad primum ergo dicendum quod caro humana sortitur esse per animam.
[15] For example, this is the judgment of Francis Pieper.  See Francis Pieper, Christian Dogmatics, 3 vols. (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1953-1957), 2:99-100.